


hope is fleeting, the future is breaking

by MiathiBlue



Series: they say you are their sun, as if your guidance has ever led them to safety [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: Abstract, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 17:04:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11948730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiathiBlue/pseuds/MiathiBlue
Summary: A look at Thirteen.Formatted for Tumblr.





	hope is fleeting, the future is breaking

She was born a sunflower, a hopeful bud that grew and grew, taller than the rest and still not tall enough. She unfurled herself towards the sky, strong and hopeful and young. She dreamed, unfurling her petals to call to the sun, she dreamed and hoped and laughed. She was kind, big face turned upwards but never forgetting about those beneath her. She was a sunflower, young and naïve as she reached for a sky that was not meant to be reached.

Then she was a star, floating alone in the sky she’d reached for. It was cold, so much colder than she thought, nothing like she wanted, but there was no turning back now. She burned, burned, hotter than anything that surrounded her, insignificant in the vastness of space. There are those that call her a guide, those who upturn their faces to her in awe. She wants to scream, to shout, to tell them to look back down, to the soft grass and the sunflowers that shouldn’t grow anymore.  **Don’t be like me** , she wants to say, but the flowers are too far away to hear.

And then she was a goddess, her golden head high and footsteps that roll across the heavens. She is all she was and  **more** , all the sunflowers and stars that ever were winding together in a fire that cannot burn out. She is love and family and justice and peace, has seen them all and shaped worlds under her fingertips.  _She is golden,_  they say, their breaths reverent and awed. She could crush stars in her hands, place new ones like baubles on a tree.

But lastly, she was broken.

She has seen it all and more, all the darkness that shapes the light, the shadows nipping at her heels. Her hands are raw and her soul stained with blood, body shaped into a sword. She trembles at night when the tears come and they cannot know, they cannot see the path she has walked to be here. They cannot see the sunflower she was, the star they told her to be. She was a sunflower, she was a star, she is a goddess, but she has always, always, been broken.


End file.
